


The Oxton Chronicles

by U_S_S_Enterprise_Cookbook



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Everyones old, F/F, Time Travel, year 2112
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-10-19 05:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/U_S_S_Enterprise_Cookbook/pseuds/U_S_S_Enterprise_Cookbook
Summary: Set in the year 2112. Lena, beaten and riddled down after years of long, hard fighting, Is now retired. Overwatch lost long ago to Talon and most of its members are dead or long lost.Talon reigns supreme and ransacks the world for money and power daily. All seems lost, until Winston locates the Slipstream in an old abandoned warehouse.





	1. New year: 2112

Lena sat on the creaky old rocking chair. Her eyes looking straight ahead, though not really focusing on anything. The sunlight gleaming through her windows,a warm contrast to the mild, cold, December air, highlighted the dust in its grasp. The book on her lap, was slowly beginning to fall to her left, though she hardly even noticed. The book was titled "My time at the RAF", the title created with torn out pieces of magazines. She remembered how happy she was when she finished building the cover of that book. The page that was open had a picture of Lena with a beautiful lady, both smiling brightly at the camera. A shiny new fighter plane was behind them. The picture was titled at the top "Amélie and Lena". The title was made of torn up pieces of magazines.

After that page, the book abruptly ends. Blank pages lined up to be filled, but none of them ever will.

Lena, once with the brightest smile in the world, now only had old lips. The color a light pink, the color rushed out of them, only to leave a few droplets behind. Beside her mouth were slight wrinkles. Not deep. Not disgusting. But noticeable. Her brown eyes were not too noticeable at first glance, But the more one looked into her eyes, the more deep and powerful they get. Years of experience, love, pain, and regret could be found, but only if one looked hard enough. Her nose was still on the small side.Though a few more ridges could be seen.

Lena was suddenly jolted out of her hypnotized state from a soft thud. She looked down at the source of the thud; on the floor to the left of her. The book closed back to the front was what greeted her. 

This was her first time opening up and looking through the book. Most of the time if sat on top of a closet, well hidden out of anyone's reach. Lena tried a few times before to pull it out before, but her fear got the best of her. She would then put it back. However the book would stay in her memory after the attempts . She would think about it the rest of the night. It often lead to a fit of fear, then sadness, then self hatred, then anxiety. It was hard sleeping those nights. Sometimes there was no sleep to be enjoyed. However, as she got older, the easier it was for those feelings to pass. Soon the feelings were only a ghost of what was once there. A memory of a memory. It was on this night that she braved her fears and pulled out the book. She had created it so long ago that she forgot what was even in it. When She first opened the book, her hands were trembling. Her old heart started pounding yet again. But her eyes stayed strong, and eventual her hand steadied, and her heart slowed down to a controllable rate.

She opened the book.

To her surprise, she was not scared, tormented, or sick at the sight of the first page. It was her first day as an official pilot at the RAF. In the picture, 16 year old Lena Oxton was staring at the camera with the cheekiest and most heart filled grin of any RAF pilot ever. Most likely of any person in the armed forces anywhere. Lena looked at the gate to the past, and couldn't help but smile. Her fears quickly subsided and she forgot all about what happened. She was reminded of old times. Of promises that the future was going to be bright. Of the promise that everything was going to be OK.

She started flying through the book. The book reminded her of old friends and better times. Her smile grew every turn of the page. She even began laughing. She felt a sense of happiness, true happiness, that she hadn't felt in a long time. Her old heart felt like it was flying again. She saw the time she and Richard snuck out of practice to go hit up the gay bar. The time she snuck grinded up hot peppers into shelby's drink. The time Lena took a plane out to Jamaica, landed it, spent the night there, took it back the next morning, and GOT AWAY WITH IT. She went through the entire book, feeling the best she's felt in ages.

Then she got to the final page she filled out.

Lena saw what the picture was, who it was with, and when it was taken. Her heart froze. Her eyes lost their grip. Her hand started trembling. She froze, unable to do anything but look straight ahead. Her mind wanted to run, to scream, to put that book back where it came from and never had it be seen in her face again. But her body was in complete shock, not letting her do anything. She sat there for what felt like hours, going through the scenario in her mind. It played over and over again; the excitement, the picture, the kiss, the promise of a date when she gets back, the strap-in, the runway, the excitement, the mess up, the screw up, the falling into the darkness, why did she have to fuck up, why did she have to fuck up, why did she have to-

A soft thud to the left of her broke her out of her state. She looked to the left of her to see what it was. The book was on the floor, just to the left of her. She didn't even realize it was dropping. Did it really get that bad again?

She sighed, putting her hand through her whitened hair, She cursed herself out, because this was the first time in a long time she had an episode this bad.She got ready to do her meditation. Zenyattta showed her this long ago, to help with the anxiety.

But just as she was about to start, the phone started to ring.

It was Winston. Lena sighed. It was probably just another small mission to disrupt Talon. How many more of these could she go through before she just gave up entirely on them? Sure, a blown up warehouse, or an assassinated commander hurt, but stabbing a giants toe just ends up making the giant step on you in the end. But, if we wern't going to step up to the giant, then who will? she answered the call.

"..."

"..."

"Winston?"

" Yes, its me. How are you doing today?"

" Good darling, what do you want?" Her voice a tad faulty.

"Are you OK? you sound a bit flustered."

"Oh, just twisted my back wrong."

Winston paused for a bit, before adding "I See." Although Winston was an ape, she knew Lena far too well to know that that's not how Lena sounds when she's injured.

Winston then cleared his throat, and changed the sound sound of his voice to an almost whisper. "You need to meet me at the abandoned warehouse at Kings Row. I found something that may change the tide of the war."

Lena suddenly was thrown into a blizzard of confusion and surprise, her voice clearly showing it " What do you mean?"

Winston continued, "This will be the biggest mission we have done yet, Lena"

"Are you there now?", Lena stuttered.

"Meet me at the warehouse at three", Winston ignored.

Lena was getting annoyed, "What did you find?"

Winston spoke with a feeling of authority, and yet a hint of concern. "Listen, Lena, just trust me on this one. It's best if i don't tell you until you're there." 

" What did you find?" Lena's voice was furious now.

There was science for a while. Both sides of the call were sitting patiently, one wanting answers and an explanation, the other knowing that explaining would possibly jeopardize the whole mission. Finally after a long wait, Winston, with his voice low, said "Meet me there at three. Be ready with your gear."

He hung up.

Lena back in her rocking chair, defeated. Her old body now felt older then ever. She was exhausted, tired, and down right angry at Winston for not telling her anything. But nether less, she was intrigued at the mission. Could this mission actually stop Talon, or at least send them back a few pegs? It had been forever since Winston had been that secretive or excited. Could it even bring Overwatch back, at least somewhat, to what it once was?

Lena suddenly laughed out loud at what she had just thought. Ha! There goes her imagination again, flying off into what ifs and crazy fantasies. Lena had always had an imaginative mind, but over the past few years, she's gone way down. To even think that one simple mission would bring back Overwatch to even a fraction of it's former self is, at most, Bat-shit crazy. At worse, you're the craziest phyco in the world. Perhaps her old age had finally caught up to her.

But she had to give this mission a shot. Besides, it's better then just sitting around here all day. So, she looked at the clock. The time said 2:17. Well, she thought, That gives me just enough time to get ready and head off to London. She loved London and would have never left it if she had the choice. But life happens. And as Lena quickly realized, life is not easy to you when your the most hated person in the entire city. The amount of hate letters, looks she got on the streets, people cussing her out, restaurants refusing to serve her, attempts against her life, and the love of her life leaving her far outweighed the good things. So she had to pack up her things, and move to the far suburbs of London. Far away enough to avoid the hate letters but still close enough to go on a 'night patrol' if she felt like it. It's strange, how once she left the city, the crime rate bumped up just a little bit. How the most hated person in London saved hundreds of lives a year. But, the rise in crime couldn't be because of her, right?

She got up off of her chair and went to her closet. She creaked the door open, and grabbed her coat and pulse pistols. Her coat was not the signature bomber jacket Tracer always wore, it was a jet black overcoat, not bad looking, but perfect for blending into a crowd. The pulse pistols were not her old ones she kept in a box in her closet, but a newer model. These ones were also black, with a white trigger as the only splash of contrast. The most important part about her outfit, though, was her mask. Or what she made as a makeshift for a mask. She had a massive red scarf that was put around her mouth, covering everything from her nose down. Then, she had a beanie that she put on her head, covering up her hair. When she was younger, it hurt her hair a bit, and made it even more unruly afterwards. But, as she aged, her hair stood up by itself less and less, and now it didn't even bother her anymore. However, after she takes it off after a long night of being a vigilante, her hair stands up, wild and crazy, just like she did when she was younger. Her last piece of headgear was a black masquerade mask, laced with floral patterns of roses, to cover her eyes. These three things made her look like a complete freak wherever she went, but it hid her well. People just suspected she was going to some weird ass party. No one ever accused her of being Tracer.

With that all taken care of, she put on her brown shows, her old age finally convincing her to get rid of the crocks, and walked out the door to her car. The coldness of the air surprising her a little, but she was well bundled up. As she was trudging through the snow, she looked over to her neighbor's house, who, judging by the banner on the front of her house, was having a party tonight. The banner on the souse said

" HAPPY NEW YEAR 2112 "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go easy on me. This is my first true fanfic.  
> I should also explain that there will be a few OC's that will be folowing Lena on her adventure. You will be intruduced to them very shortly. They play big roles in the book.  
> Next chapter will be when i get around to it.  
> Hope you enjoyed ; )


	2. The Hidden Refuge

Running.

Running was what was on Tom's mind right now. Running was the only thing on Tom's mind right now. Well, that and maybe a massive burning pain from his left leg. Gunshot wounds were really a pain in the balls sometimes. He couldn't think of anything else, because his life may very well depend on it. 

The panting was getting unbearable, and sweat was dripping out of every pour. But he couldn't pay attention to it. Not one bit. He could hear the footsteps getting closer to him every second. The backpack on his back felt heavier after ever step now. But that couldn't stop now. He _had_ to keep moving.

__Despite this, one promising thought came to him as he recognized the narrow brick corridor coming up to his left._ _

__He was close._ _

__One of the men behind him made a deep growl of pure anger, before he suddenly yelled out "GET HIM!". The two other men suddenly picked up speed and were now gaining ground on him. Tom had to make a move, and quick._ _

__He looked around to the left and right of the gratified alleyway. To the left, where a display of anti-omnic grafiti was sprayed, there was a small vendor filled with fruits. To the left of him were assorted pieces of crumbled up brick and stone and pieces of fruit peels._ _

__Well, shit._ _

__Seeing that he had no other option, Tom reached into his open book bag and pulled out his metal baseball bat. Just in time, too, because at that moment the smallest man of the group got a hold of him and turned him around. Once turned around, Tom only got to see the beautiful scene of his ache and freckled-fucked face for a split second before getting rocked in the face with his fist._ _

__Tom was sent reeling back from the hit, and found himself landing into the pile of rubbish on his left. It took a few seconds for him to get his bearings, but when he did, he saw the man walking towards him with a small chuckle on his lips. " Looks Like we got em, boys.", His voice hard and raspy._ _

__Tom picked up the bat laying beside him and made a quick rush to his legs. Tom was crouched enough to miss the counter and hit him hard on the side of the knee. The crook toppled over to the side and let out a rich yell. As he was focused on his busted kneecap, tom moved in in front of him and threw him over his shoulder_ _

With the thug sprawled out on the floor, wondering which way was up, Tom got up and raised his bat over his head, and prepared to hit the defenseless man's chest. Then something came out of his peripheral vision in front of him. He looked up to see a rigid looking rock being hauled towards him.

_WHAM_

The rock hit the top of his eyebrow and sent his head into a world of throbbing pain. It felt like needles were ripping through his skull. He flinched back and put his right hand on his eyebrow. His left hand still holding the bat. He forced himself to focus off the pain for the time being, as searing as it was. He took his right hand off oh his head, noticing a splash of blood on it. He barley had time to register it before he saw the second biggest man come up from his left and swing at him with a crowbar. Working on pure instinct at this point, he put his right hand on the tip of the bat, and used the middle of the bat as a shield. The crowbar slashed at the center of the bat, scraping the finish off of it and making a horrible screeching noise as the man went for another swing.

This time the swing came to the side, and hard. Tom placed his bat dead center and deflected the strike again, pushing him back and staggering him. The third strike came to the other side,but this time, Tom deflected it and smacked the butt of the bat on his nose. The man staggered back, but held on. Tom then swinged his bat at the crook's shoulder. The bat swished around and hit the criminal's shoulder, making a cracking noise at it made contact. The man clenched his jaw and let out a scream through his teeth.

But before he could decide what he would do next, a hand shot out and grabbed Tom's leg. Tom was swept down to the ground and his body banged against the cold concrete. Tom had a stinging sense of pain throughout his entire body. The thin man on the ground laughed in a high, hyena like voice, and continued to laugh as the Biggest man finally came over and punched Tom right in face. And kept laughing as Tom was picked up by the coat and thrown to the wall. His voice slowed down to a chuckle as he began to get off of his back and turned to see the show. The biggest pain in the ass of this mafia for months had just been caught. And the payment for his crimes was his face.

Tom reeled back in pain from the fifth- or was it fifteenth- slam to the face he got since he got pinned up to the wall by this big behemoth. If asked if he would have liked his day to end up like this, he would probably slap you and tell you to go to a mental hospital. Because lets face it, who the fuck goes around saying stuff like that. But unfortunately, life has no face like that, and can really do whatever it wants when it wants. And theres not really a damn thing you can do about it. So here Tom was, beaten to hell, and hoping that life decided that it's not his last.

He knew he was fucked.

"Wheres it at?" The big man said.

A slim smile went across his bloodied face. "Where's what at?" he whispered out.

"Don't fuck with me boy." He spitted out, nasally. Every word filled with venom. "The money. WHERE THE FUCK'S IT ALL AT!!!" "I could probably fit it all in the space between your eyebrows"

A slap pierced Tom's train of thought, and stopped his talking. For a while at least.

An annoying high pitched laugh was heard behind the big man. The big man turned around and glared at the thin man, ceasing the laugh. The Man looked back to Tom. "Richard, check through This boy's backpack." He more screamed then told. "Do you realize how much damage you have done to this organization?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, i'd say about a 3."

Another slap, on the same side.

"You have stolen about ten percent of the profits we make. ALONE! Do you know how much of a big deal that is?"

"Well then you should make more profits so that I steal a smaller percentage of your profit. Silly goose."

A third slap hit his face.

"man, if these slaps keep up, i'm not gonna be able to feel my face after this."

"QUIET!!!! " the fat man screamed in my face. He turned around. "What did you find in there Richard?"

The cleanest sounding voice out of the entire pack rang out "At least twenty k."

"Well thanks a lot asshole," sputtered Tom. "I steal a fuck ton of money and you don't cover up for me? Now I know why they call you Rickard. Cause your a -"

A final slap, harder then all the rest, hit Tom again. Tom's mouth was now just spilling out blood.

"James, get the .40." The slim man got up, went over to the suit case laid on the side of the wall, and opened it up. Inside was a formidable gun. Clearly capable of killing someone. As guns tend to do. Then, the man limped over to the boss.

The boss turned back around to Tom. "What's your name, boy" He asked as he took hold of the gun.

"It's Tom." Tom said sarcastically.

The boss hit the young man's head with the base of his gun. "No more fucking games" he growled. " What's your real name?"

"Alright, alright." Tom said with fake fear in his voice. "It's Cayden"

"Now listen here Caydon," his voice got low and sharp. "Your gonna tell me where you put the two hundred thousand, or i'm gonna put a cap through your skull. And then we'll see who has the bigger gap between their eyebrows."

The conversation between them was interrupted by yet another howling laughter that was pure annoyance. All three other men looked at him as the laughing man continued through another 10 seconds of laughter. " That's hysterical!" He managed to blurt out. Still annoyingly as fuck though.

"Jesus. Maybe before you kill me I could help you out by shooting out his vocal chords."

"QUIET!" The fat man yelled out. Weather it was to the laughing man or Tom, he didn't know. But both stopped.

"Last chance boy. give it up or die." The gun was cocked and loaded, and was now pointing directly at his face. This was it.

Or was it?

"Do you prefer the war trample mix or the woman in black post freedom speech on your tater tot casserole?"

"What?"

Tom grabbed the gun in the man's hand at lightning fast speed, and twisted his hand upwards to the point where it was facing him. The big man realized that this happened, and suddenly started struggling and yelling uncontrollably. during this fiasco, the man's finger was caught in the trigger of the gun. And after one strong tug, the finger got a little to close to the trigger.

_BANG_

The bullet went straight through the man's solerplex and made him go into a state of shock. The fat man let go of the gun and collapsed to the ground. He clutched at his chest helplessly and scrambled on the floor helplessly. Now that Tom had the gun and everyone's attention was on the boss, he went along with the first state of business; Make sure that annoying jackass never spoke again. He aimed the gun at the slim man's throat and pulled the trigger. A spray of blood from his throat quickly followed. And just to make sure he gets the point across that he _really _didn't like him, he put a few more bullets into his legs.__

__The bullet shots must have taken the final guy back into it, because he rushed in and smacked his hand with the crowbar. The hand dropped the gun and starting shaking. It was clearly broken. He winced in pain, but looked back up at the man anyhow. His mind was racing, wondering how he will ever beat this guy. He was too beaten to shit to have another fight with this guy. But just then, he realized he didn't have to. He turned to the stand of various fruits and toppling it over. The stand flinged out a barrage of fruits everywhere on the ground. After that, all he could do was hope that a miracle happened now. He rushed past the man and grabbed his backpack and started running out of the alleyway. Despite his entire body aching, he knew he had to get out of there. After running out of the alley and taking a left, he looked back and saw the man fall on a watermelon and land flat on his ass. Ha! it actually worked! Down on the ground, the man looked at the boy, then looked at his boss and his dying accomplice, and decided to help them instead._ _

__Tom kept running, taking a right and into an open stretch. it actually worked! He had saw the trick in cartoons and never thought it would actually work. Yet here it was saving his life! Behind him he could hear the man saying " I need a medic over here! The boss is shot!" behind him in the alley way. Tom ran past an old bar, that used to be bustling about 50 or so years ago. But now was just an abandoned, broken down, shell of its former self. Such things were often nowadays in Kings Row._ _

__As he continued on, he went to a circular opening. This was the center of the row. or what was left of it. In the middle there was a statue of an omnic holding a little girl's hand. Tom remembered that there was some important assassination that happened here a long time ago, but he couldn't recall what it quite was. Supposedly, it sent the row into chaos like it had never seen before. But he didn't really care. What he did care about was the meaning it meant for him. He was home._ _

__Tom ran through an opening in the wall and stopped. He knew that he was safe now. He walked over and leaned against the wall. He took a few breaths and began to relax. And then it hit him. A wave of pain was sent throughout his entire body. His head felt like it was about to split open. He could barley move his right hand. His left leg had a bad limp to it. But that constant wave of pain. A pain that made him use all of his might to not scream. His breath began to hitch. He knew he had to get into the church and get help as much as possible. No beating around the bush for this one._ _

__He walked slowly, but surely, And painfully, to the large metal doors to the church. Upon reaching the doors he gave the secret knock._ _

_____knock_  
_knock knock knock_  
_knock_  
_knock_

The wide doors creaked opened up to reveal Mr. Apperson, the head of the refuge and longtime caretaker of Tom and every child of the refuge. Mr Apperson looked at Tom with his green eyes and, with a gaping mouth, held Tom's thin orange hair. Then, going through a phase of shock, anger, worry, and finally, understanding, he said "Come in. Quick." He grabbed hold of Tom and helped him through the door. The door shut behind them.

"This is why you don't go out on missions alone." Mr. Apperson's voice was Hard, but calm. His voice was also rather high pitched, but not to the point of being annoying. "Diego!" He called out. " Get the first aid out!" 

"Right away, Apperson" came an omnic's voice in the room to their left.

Tom limped his way with Apperson to the medical room. Even with the help of Apperson, his entire body felt like it could collapse on itself at any moment. "What were you even doing out there?", he said as they passed through a stone arch, hundreds of years older then them. Before Tom could reply, he was helping him on the bed in the med bay. He winced at the start, but suddenly felt relaxed on the bed. Everything hurt, but his mind was at ease.

" I was just enjoying the scenery."

"Now is not the time for games, Tom"

Tom made an annoyed sigh, before giving out "I was going out to steal from one of their safe houses."

Apperson looked at him coldly. He went to the cabinet to reach for a rag. "That goes against the code we have." He took the rag out and put it under the sink. "You know that."

"But it was only going to be a little. Then I would get out unseen."

"Huh. Yeah. Unseen. Good job." He turned back to Tom. "This 'l hurt a bit." He proclaimed.

Tom grunted as the cold towel cleansed his wounds. Apperson continued on with his speech. "This is the fourth time-"

"Third." Tom interrupted.

"Fourth. I know when your faking a stomach ache. And that medicine you went out to get was not medicine at all. Although I do give you credit for putting the correct medicine cover over the liquor bottle." Tom started to speak, but he stopped him. "And I totally didn't notice the increase of weapons in our stash the next morning. Despite the fact that they were quite well hidden." All Tom could do now was sit there, embarrassed that his antics were figured out. "Your a smart boy, Tom. But you've got a few more tricks to learn." Apperson gave him a little wink as he finished up licking the wounds. "Besides that, how did you get away from them? You looked like you lost the fight."

Tom gave a slim smile. "I said the most randomest shit ever."

"Language." 

"Right. Sorry. But it was so hilarious. He looked at me so funnily. And I took full advantage."

A more serious tone followed. "Did you kill him?" 

"I don't know." Tom replied. They both hoped the answer was no.

Just then, deigo came into the door. The omnic, dressed in ragged tattered street clothes, looked past and saw state Tom was in. "Oh my!" he proclaimed. "What did you get into this time?"

"I-" he was about to lie. But he looked at Apperson and decided against it. "I did a solo mission." It wasn't lying.

"An unauthorized one, I'm guessing?" The omnic was unpacking his kit on the stand next to the bed. Inside the kit was an assortment of metal instruments that looked a little too much like torture devices. There were a few bottles of different colors as well. He picked up the one that was blue, and sicked a syringe in it. Upon closer inspection to the boy, if the robot had eyebrows, they would have shot straight up. "My lord. You go yourself into a tough one alright." 

The doctor walked over and sicked the syringe into his arm. Instantly the pain stopped. Tom let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks doc." he muttered.

"It's not me, its the morphine." the doc said.

 

Due to the doctor actually having to operate, he had to kick Mr. Apperson out of the med bay. After stitching me up, and quite a long peptalk about how to treat the wounds for the upcoming days, he let me loose. Stepping out of the med bay, I walked to the back of the church. The entire place was set to look abandoned, and it technically was. There had not been a mass in this place for over forty years. But this church now had a much more interesting role now. Reaching the end of the church, he looked down at an old patterned rug. The red had begun fading away on it. He picked it up and reached for the large steel door that was underneath it. He clicked the code into the touchpad and it shone green for him. Then, he rotated the wheel and turned it. Then, he swung the vault door open and climbed down the ladder. He didn't worry about closing the vault door or the rug; Diego would deal with that.

He reached the end of the ladder and landed on the stone floor. He started walking across the one way tunnel that would spill out into several dozen other tunnels that would lead to dozens of rooms.

This was home. This was the hidden refuge.

Though still a little sore, he felt a weight fall from his chest. He weaved his way through the tunnels, saying hi to his friends and colleagues as he passed them. Some were surprised. Some were not. All were concerned. He kept his answers to a minimum and walked towards his room. It was quite the long day, and he didn't feel like talking to anyone. The drugs the doctor gave him didn't help. He reached his door and put the key in the lock. The door clicked open and he went straight to his bed. laying on the bunk bed felt good, even though it looked kind of stupid. He was glad that his roommate wasn't there. He was probably off doing some training at the gym. Although he didn't mind his roommate, he didn't like the lack of privacy it gave him.

He got up and sat at his bed. He looked at the small room he was given and sighed. He didn't feel like watching tv, or reading a book, or practicing at the gym. He felt like taking a nap. He laid back down on the bad and looked up at the bunk bed above him. God, he wished he could be back in Belgium. Far from all of this mess. He could be without a care in the world. He could be with grandpa and grandma and-

A loud bang on the door took him out of his train of thought. "Tom Peeters, are you in here?"

Tom shot up from his bed."Yes i am."

"Mr. Apperson wants to speak with you in his office."

He should have know this was coming. This should just be the usual scolding he had gotten use to. "Yes, sir." he replied, and opened up the door to head out with the tall man. Walking with the man to the office had more weight to it then usual though. The air felt heavy and he had a weird feeling in his gut. But, nerveless, he kept moving along.

After a short while, they arrived at the door to the office. The tall man opened it and Tom stepped inside the door to the checkered tiles.The man then briefly closed it, and Tom was left alone. He looked around the room. The only light source was coming from a candle stick on the desk in the middle. The walls were burgundy wood, well finished. The shelves next to the walls showed displays of guns, fancy wines, and a few antique knives. Newspaper articles cutted out were proudly shown framed on his wall. A cougars head was on the left of his desk . Clearly Mr. Apperson was a man of many things.

And to top it all off was Mr. Apperson himself, sitting behind his desk and dressed up in a sports jacket.

"Sit down, Mr. Peeters" he said, business like

I was taken back by his tone. Was this really the same man that was joking with me just earlier today? I quickly took the seat already taken out for me when I walked in. I sat down, and looked at him straight up. The lighting effect put an almost menacing look on him. Apperson always had this effect of being your closest friend one second and the next, the most menicing person you've ever seen. His straight face gave away nothing.

" Why did you ask me to join you today?" Tom asked." Is this just a ranting about what I did today?"

Apperson waved a finger, silencing me. "Do you know what you did today?"

"Well yeah, I-"

Apperson pounced on his response " Enough. Your getting too old for this nonsense."

" I don't see what was so bad. I got away and got some money from it."

"And nearly died in the process. And nearly jeopardized this entire little operation we've got going on here. I don't think you understand the importance of this entire setup Tom. We are one of the last forces fighting off these bastards in the whole world now. We built this refuge to give people living in this hellhole a chance to live to next year. We built this refuge to hold the civilians so that one day they might live to see their streets be clean again. When we realized the police or any other force weren't going to clean up the streets for us, we began training ourselves. We sent messengers everywhere into every town in all of England, and the neighboring states to call out for any person willing to fight for our cause. When reinforcements came, we got to work. Where did your father come into this, Tom?"

Tom was stammered by the directness of Mr. Apperson, not knowing how to react. "He-he came from Belgium to fight for your cause."

"So you do have half a brain." Apperson said bluntly, but with a hint of sarcasm. " He came and was quite the formidable fighter. He blew up quite a few depos and warehouses. Even helped us take out the headquarters from some of the smaller gangs. But we were causing a little bit too much of a ruckus. So when we had a little too many .......... Causalities, we had to think of a new plan."

Tom grew quiet at the last statement.Tom sat there for what felt much longer than what it actually was with a slight anger in his eyebrows, and his eyes like lazers looking straight forward. After a while when Apperson was expecting some sort of response, and got none, he continued.

"After a close call where this vault was nearly discovered, which would certainly end this entire game, we came up with a new idea. We would get a young boy who was handy, and train him to become an operator who specialized in getting in and out quickly. We would then make it look like this one boy was doing all the damage that was being done. Then we wouldn't have to worry about one of our operators dying and having this whole operation being blown. tell me Tom, where do you fit into all of this?" That sarcasm was back again.

Tom sat there silent again, before saying "I am that person." A slight edge to his voice, anger at himself growing.

"Exactly. And if you don't sharpen up your act, your going to die. And we're gonna have to start back over to the drawing board. How many times have you gone out on your own will, not having us back you up. If you mess up one more time, I think we're gonna have to find someone else to do the job." No hint of sarcasm this time.

Tom quietly said "I get it"

Apperson didn't stop. "You are 16 years old now. Don't you think thats a high enough age to start acting a little more mature? Why don't you start that as soon as you leave this office?"

"I get it."

" We have spent too much time and recources on you just to have it be thrown away beca-"

"I get it."

"Don't you cut me off, Tom. You know very well without me at the helm we would all be in a very different place then here today. Probably half of us would be in some torture chamber and the other half dead."

"I GET IT"

...

...

...

The room had suddenly gotten very quiet. Tom jumped out of his seat and slammed the desk. Both of them were staring each other down. One side a rage of anger, the other calm collectince. They sat in that position for what was quite a long time. Then Apperson took a deep breath, closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. He waited a beat longer before opening his eyes and saying "Im only telling this because I worry about you."

That sentence let down Tom's guard a little, and he found himself loosing up. He decided it was best to sit down, and did so. Still a sharp look in his eye. Apperson continued. "I don't want to loose you. We've already lost too much." His voice was pained when he said it. It quickly subsided though. "I guess I should tell you the real reason why I called you here."

Tom's face went from resentfulness to surprise. So his gut feeling was right. But what could it be?

Apperson thought over how he was going to say this, before taking a long sigh and continuing it the best way he could. "So far, throughout the entire lifespan of this place, we have only gone after small fries. Little gangs that were hardly even noticed by the syndicate that decided Kings Row was the best place to set their homes. And so far we have been successful. We have taken the overall crime down in Kings Row, and have survived for quite some time." he took a breath, before continuing. " But those are the small fries. They are not the true problem of London. The true problem is an organization much more bigger, stronger, collected, brutal, and downright more scarier than all the others combined. Why do you think we've been collecting all this money without spending it? We easily could wipe the others clean with all of that. But were not collecting all of it just to fight them, were going to use it to have a fighting chance aginst the real threat. Their name is Talon."

The name echoed off the wooden walls for a few seconds. Tom didn't know what to say or what to do, so waiting was his best option. Talon sounded familiar. He thought he heard the name on the news back in Belgium, but was too young to care what it was about. By the time he was old enough to understand, he had lived in the refuge and was disconnected from all news sources. 'It was bad for morale' they claimed. He never fully understood why.

Apperson tried to study the look on Tom's face, and was surprised that Tom had no major emotions to the name. Had he really disconnected the children that much from the outside world? He pressed on. " Originally, the plan was to wait much later for you to fight off Talon, and you were going to do it with the help of other operators. But," He pulled up a hologram from his hand. The image showed a satalite image of Kings Row. "We located a strange device that we discovered to be connected to Talon in some form." A red dot appeared on an empty wherehouse building he had passed by thousands of times before. "No signs of Talon vehicles were shown putting the devise in. It just seemed to appear out of thin air overnight." His voice filled with slight confusion. " Whats even worse, is we're detecting several Talon vehicles driving toward the dot. It looks like they'll get there by about 1500 hours tomorrow." His voice made yet another sigh, and he lowered his voice. "I was hoping this day wouldn't come as soon as this, but it appears we have no choice. Talon seems like they want it real bad. And if they get their hands on it, who knows what kind of power it contains. Although I would send someone else out, all our operators are on a big mission over in Ireland right now. I have no choice but to send you."

Tom was both excited and terrified at the moment. He would actually fight off against a true organization for once, but also terrified. This was the real deal. By the sound of it, these folks didn't mess around.

Apperson turned off the hologram and looked at Tom. "I hope you know what this means." Tom nodded. Apperson studied him for a second, and nodded back. " But seriously, though, no more games. These folks are the real deal. They don't fuck around. And if you mess up, your dead."

"I understand" was all Tom replied.

"Go there tomorrow morning, find it, figure out what it is, and report back to me. I will take further action."

Tom said "Yes sir." God he hoped he was ready. By the sounds of it, he wasn't. But now was not the time to doubt himself.

With that, Apperson wrapped up the meeting. "Get a good night's sleep, Tom. Dismissed."

Tom got up, slid the chair back in, and walked out of the door. When the door clicked closed, Apperson put his head on his hands and sat there restless. He hoped that that was not the last time he would see the boy he raised since he was seven.

Neither of them had a good night's sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. I really did give it my all.
> 
> If you have any critical feedback, give it to me. I would be happy to take it. I am new to this stuff anyway.


	3. Joint Meeting in a Darkened Room

"Did the experiment work?"

"Yes. Though the connection was a little weak. It kept going in and out of-"

"But it worked, yes?"

"Well....Yes. But it's a little faulty."

"Will it stay long enough for us to get it?"

"Yes. At least if we-"

"Then we have fully succeeded. The experiment was a success, doctor, with no setbacks. Quit hanging on to the 'not fully perfect' attitude. Did the allies win World War Two without a few setbacks. No. In fact, it was probably the axis's mistakes that was the true decider of that war. Yet, the allies are given the win because of their 'superior battle tactics'. Did it matter that their army wasn't flawless to begin with? No."

A pause. "I get that, but if we don't send men over there soon, it's going to-"

A chuckle. "Then it is done, doctor. Why ar-"

"Stop cutting me off like that. You're acting like an animal. With the way you treat chronal quantum mechanics like it's a joke, I wouldn't be surprised if you were."

A thick weight clouded the air. Until, "Forgive her, Akande. She's worked on this project for months now. I take it you would be stressed out, too, if you'r months of hard work was treated softly."

The man faced to turn the omnic. "You stay out of this, Max."

The two quietly stared at each-other, until, "So once we get her, what do you think will come next."

"Once we get red-318, well, once we get red-318 anything can really be possible."

"Do you think she could make as big as an impact as she did?"

"Last time we got her, we still had Overwatch to deal with. But now since that's gone, I recon she can do even more." A silence in the room, before he continued. "How is _she _?__

__A pause, before, "She has hardly said a word. Declines to eat. We had to force feed her this afternoon."_ _

__"I see. Keep an eye on her. We don't want her having any rouge thoughts."_ _

__"I am"_ _

__The deep voice rang out. "Let's get men to this plane. Wherever it might be."_ _

__"It's inside a-"_ _

__"Just bring it here."_ _

__"Your doing it again."_ _

__"I don't know how you live with that constant heavy Irish accent. It's gotta be tiresome after a while."_ _

__A lot longer pause then the last ones, before "Just get the troops to bring it back."_ _

__"Should I call in the big guns?"_ _

__"....Nah. Just a few nobodys will do."_ _

__"I understand"_ _

__"This meeting is conclu-"_ _

__"I hope you know what you're dealing with here."_ _

__"Excuse me?"_ _

__"Right now we've got a lot of ships at sea. But if we take one wrong course of action, we may never hear of those ships again."_ _

__"Are you questioning me?"_ _

__"No. But perhaps we're taking too much of a risk here."_ _

__"........Perhaps. But have faith doctor. Live a little."_ _

__"But"_ _

__"This meeting is cuncluded."_ _

"...Yes sir"

__And with that, the people got out of their seats, and left the room._ _


	4. The Student

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW anyone who has ever wanted a Talon Tracer skin, your dream is already here. Go look at Toronto's home skin for Tracer. The color scheme is perfect.
> 
> Also 2 plus years of widowtracer and as far as I can tell, not one person made a Frankenstein "It's Alive" joke for Halloween. If I'm wrong please let me know.

Veronica, up high ontop the abandoned building on the outskirts of kings row, with her stealth mech hidden behind her in plain sight, settles at the edge. Her sniper rifle in hand ready to face on any problem that might come up. She hopes such a problem won't come up. But she knows better than to just dismiss the possibility. She taps her headset.

"Hana, I'm at the drop point.", She said

A voice of an elderly woman replied back. "Good. Did you see any aircrafts in the air?"

A confident reply, "No, Mrs. Song"

"That's a good sign. Keep her running just in case, anyway."

"Of course."

"Do you see anything?"

Veronica scans the streets for something. Anything, really. But she comes up short handed. Perhaps their sources were wrong about this one. The warehouse was there, yes. But it showed no signs of holding anything of significant value. Let alone something a massive criminal organization would want.

The answer came, "I'm afraid not. perhaps that source lied to us?." A moment passed before, "You think it's a setup?"

A quiet laugh came through. Almost a chuckle. "No, No. Not this one. I've been working with her for a long time. It's definitely real."

Although she should be relieved at that news, she is put on edge now. Usually at this time a group has already swarmed in and attempted at what they were trying to do. Maybe they took a wrong turn?

Then, she saw a figure appear from behind the corner.

It was a woman. Was it a woman? Yes, she thinks it is a woman, But what the hell is she wearing? That's a big ass coat for her small figure. And is she walking with a slight arch in her back? What was up with that? But what struck her the most was the massive red scarf covering her face. As well as the...masquerade she has on? And the beanie completely covering her face. She was more curious then suspicious at this point.

What an odd sight. It's almost like she doesn't want her face to be seen. Perhaps her face was ravaged by some old accident and it was horrid to look at.

Or she wants a disguise to keep her from showing up on any Camera.

Quickly the mission Veronica was on flooded back to her. She adjusted her lens to see more of the surrounding area, in case backup came. But then again, she didn't even know if this was the suspect or not. 

The suspect moved carefully and tried to look as non-conspicuous as possible. But even from this view she could see her head look around slowly, as if she was trying to detect if anyone is watching her. Her hands in her pocket slowly fidgeting, as if she's used to people people on the lookout for her. Or perhaps she was just lost in a bad side of town. Anyone would act similarly in that situation, she decided.

She watched her walk up to the old doors in question, take a quick, final, glance both ways, and opened the doors. Before she could even react, the suspect darted into the doorway.

Now she had to take action.

She turned her ear piece on. "Hana, there was a woman that just entered the building. She had really strange clothes on. And as far as I can tell she is alone."

A quick voice responded back. "Did she seem armed?"

"No, but she did look worried. Almost paranoid." , The student called back.

Hana responded back. "Well, that seems too strange. And we can't take any risks. Not with as big as a problem this could be." She weighed her options. "We've got no choice. Get down there and see what she's up to."

A soldier like, "Yes ma'am", was all that was replied.

Veronica got up from her perch, and got into her stealth mech. Inside the cockpit, she fired up the boosters and a silent, almost mute hiss of the thrusts began to sound. She boosted off the roof and as she did so, began to hit the breaks and start to fly down. The mech fired the under-thrusters and stopped the mech to almost a standstill as it came close to the ground. The mech hit the ground with no sound at all. 

When Veronica hit the ground, a flashing, red text on the left hand side of her mech read that the mech only had thirty minutes of charge on it left. She knew how dangerous it could be to be flying in the air without a cloak on, but she figured this wouldn't take more than thirty minutes. Besides, if any reinforcements came in, they would probably blow it up. 

She always wished that the damn thing would have more battery to it. She guesses that Mrs. Song would put more battery in it if she know how it worked. Apparently her old friend helped her build the cloaking system, but mysteriously vanished after the prototype was built.

After that incident, Mrs. Song was left alone to make the finalized version of the mech herself. She took the guts of the cloaking system and put it in the final product. So, it was a major flaw in the machine's design, but it was still her masterpiece, and Veronica was chosen to pilot that masterpiece.

She has a lot to learn. But learning requires time. Time that the world doesn't have.

If she's not careful, the world will have less time after tonight.


End file.
